Salva Nos
by Quietly Making Noise
Summary: Grant us peace, and save us from the enemies... Kirika's escape from Balsan's chamber just before episode 7. One-shot.


_fanfiction-dot-net presents_

_a__ NOIR fanfiction_

**SALVA NOS**

_by__ Quietly Making Noise_

_l'action__ a lieu devant les évents d'épisode six_

_Dominus__ Deus  
__exaudi__ nos et misrere  
__exaudi__, Dominus_

Kirika staggered down the cold passageway, all her senses in her side and the bullet lodged there, all her mind on Mireille. Her fingers were wet with her warm blood; more spurted over her fingers each time she moved her left leg.

_I've failed you... Mireille... Forgive me..._

Goosepimples shivered up her bare arms. She automatically turned the corner into the long straight, the third to last passage on her way out. They'd built the underground very well: there were entrances all over this city of whitewash and robes. She and Mireille had entered through the sewer, a stinking trench.

_Dona nobis pacem__  
__et salva nos a hostibus_  
_Salva__ nos, Deus_

In her left hand, she was clutching her I.D. card. A silly thing to cling to. The plastic was hot and slick with her sweat. _Watashi__ wa... Noir._ The speed loader at her belt bumped against her good leg, as comforting as the heavy bulk of her pistol beside it. She was armed, nothing too bad could happen.

Except it already had.

_Noir, c'est un ancien nom du destin…_

Left now, into the short corridor. A sharp stab of pain lanced her, and her entire left side convulsed. She gasped, typically understating, but the I.D. card fell from her quivering fingers and landed on the stone. The pain blocked it from her attention, and she gripped her wound so tightly her nails bit into the skin.

_Dominus__ exaudi nos  
__Dominus__ misrere  
__Dona nobis pacem  
__Sanctus, Gloria_

Her eyes closed against the tricks her condition was playing on her vision, she found her way out by feel, one opening, two opening, three openings and through.

And collapsed into Mireille.

'I'm sorry... Mireille...'

_Dona nobis pacem  
__E dona eis requiem  
__Inter ovas locum  
__Voca__ me cum benedictis_

She felt Mireille pull away in shock as her slender hands brushed her wound. 'What happened?' she asked, her voice dangerously soft. Her Japanese held the strange accent of her native Corsica.

'I shot him... He shot me... I shot him again.' She could feel herself slipping away with the silky blood on her leg and side and hands. So silky-smooth, as easy as floating...

_L__e__ péché parmi __le__ péché…_

'Kirika... Kirika!' A sudden impact on her left cheek, stinging. Mireille's very blue eyes very close to her face. 'Get a grip!'

'I'm... trying...'

Mireille slapped her again. 'Stay with me! _Comprenez?_ You have to stay awake!'

'Stay... awake...'

Mireille gripped her thin shoulders and propped her against the wall, stripping off her outer shirt. She tore it cleanly and bound Kirika's side. The red blood soaked through onto the khaki. Kirika was transfixed by it.

'Come here...' Mireille threw Kirika's right arm across her shoulders and lifted her slight weight. 'Walk!'

'_Salva__ nos a hostibus..._'

'_Quoi_'

'_Dominus__ exaudi nos..._' The Latin slipped into her head from a forgotten corner and flowed out of her mouth.

Mireille, walking steadily towards the exit, worked from her native French and managed a clumsy translation. 'Something dominates us? What are you talking about!'

'_Sanctus, Gloria..._'

'Kirika!'

Mireille heaved her against the wall. Kirika bit her lip at the pain.

'Either go to sleep, or shut up!' raged Mireille, her stress making her perfect, clear features flush red.

Kirika chose the former.

Mireille groaned in exasperation and picked up the swooned Japanese girl. She was inhumanly light, as light as a feather, even lighter for the blood spilling out of her. Mireille held her like a child, sideways across her body, and jogged smoothly through the night time streets towards the jeep she had hastily prepared for their getaway.

Cradling the bleeding child to her breast gave her a second's insight into herself. She, the professional, and this, her accomplice, her partner, her burden, this bundle of skinny arms and weakened legs dragging dusty handfuls of harsh desert air into her young lungs.

Mireille again asserted to herself the bargain she had made. _Kirika__ stays until you solve her mystery._

_Et puis, tu la tuerais_.

Bundling Kirika into the jeep and securing her seatbelt, a more exact translation of her fevered babblings appeared in Mireille's head.

_Salva__ nos. _

_Sauvez-nous._

_Save us._

Mireille, gently, with a tenderness that surprised her, adjusted the seatbelt across the girl's neck. Kirika stirred. Her right arm lanced out and snatched hold of Mireille's wrist. Her fingers were red with blood.

'Shh, it's me.' Her reflexes startled Mireille. Her condition must have sharpened her senses.

'Mireille... I'm so sorry...' The girl's dark eyes were firmly closed, but her taut jaw betrayed her suffering.

'_Tais-toi_, and relax,' Mireille responded briskly. 'Let's get out of here.'

She crossed the jeep's front and slipped into the driver's seat. The ignition of the engine shuddered the frame of the vehicle, making Kirika give a weak sob of agony. Mireille glanced at her, unable to keep her concern for her friend from her features. 'Are you sure you'll be okay? It's a pretty long drive o'

'I'll be fine…' insisted Kirika, removing her hand to inspect her wound. Her tank top had stuck to it, and she gritted her teeth and yanked the material up and away.

Mireille did not avert her gaze as Kirika probed her exposed flesh with her slim fingers and, biting her lip so very hard, removed the crude middle-eastern bullet. Her head lolled, her face shining with exhausted sweat, as she fainted with the pain.

Clean blood oozed slowly down her side; Mireille was glad to see the wound was not infected. At night it was much cooler, but when the sun rose, bringing with it the flies, Kirika could be in trouble. The scent of blood was distinctive.

The Corsicanne-turned-Parisienne jammed the jeep into gear and roared out of the city towards the next small town and escape.

For the moment.

_Dominus__ Deus  
__exaudi__ nos et misrere  
__exaudi__, Dominus_

_Dona nobis pacem__  
__et salva nos a hostibus_  
_Salva__ nos, Deus_


End file.
